


Contemporary Movement

by EmeraldWaves, ronniedae



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ballet Dancer Yuri, Dance Instructor AU, M/M, Modern Dancer Otabek, OtaYuri Reverse Bang 2017, Some kissing, all characters are 18+
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-02 14:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10946205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldWaves/pseuds/EmeraldWaves, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronniedae/pseuds/ronniedae
Summary: When famous ballet instructor Yuri can’t stand the loud music coming from the studio next door, he storms over ready to give the new instructor a piece of his mind. However, when he sees modern dance instructor Otabek Altin, he’s immediately captivated by him and the loud music quickly becomes the least of his worries.





	Contemporary Movement

The sound’s back again. Or at least, that’s how Yuri describes it, the sound from next door. It's late in the afternoon, so it's to be expected; this is when the noise always starts. It's most likely music, but Yuri refuses to give the infernal bass reverberating against the walls such a beautiful label.

It's been this way since Georgi sold the studio next door so he could chase some woman who had absolutely no interest in him all across Europe. Yuri had never been much of a fan of Georgi. His dramatic teaching style didn't match Yuri's vision of ballet, not at all. There were days when Yuri could hear Georgi yelling dramatically at his students about his visions and his ideas, and how their bodies should move...the list went on and on. It had always been obnoxious, and Yuri would often scoff, bite his lip, and roll his eyes. But once he put the music on for his class, Georgi's dramatic voice was often drowned out by the classical tones.

But now...

Now he finds himself actually missing the drama queen. Anything is better than the bass pounding, that comes from next door. Which, unlike Georgi's scooping timbre, is practically impossible to be rid of.

"M-Mr. Plisetsky?" One of his students snaps Yuri out of his frustrated internal rant.

Yuri's known for two things: His beauty, grace, his amazing talent when it comes to ballet, and his incredibly short temper. Two things which don't quite mix. Still, anyone who wishes to excel in the world of ballet, knows it's smart to take classes from the best, and Yuri is definitely the best, even if he is strict.

"What?" he snaps. Whipping his head around, not realizing he's been staring at the vibrating wall for the last few minutes.

"Class is...over. Can we stretch?" the boy asks nervously, and Yuri let's out a sigh.

"Yes, Yes. Stretch. Work on your hand movements, all of you look like you have incredibly tense wrists," he groans, watching as the students begin sit down to stretch and to pack up their shoes.

His head is throbbing, his head aches in time with the pounding bass next door. Normally, he enjoys staying to work on his own ballet, some private time in the studio he's worked hard to own. He'd put on some classical music, move about the room, feeling the music flow through the tips of his fingers to the bottom of his toes. His limbs would twirl around his body, moving through the air like a wave curling onto the shore on a calm summer morning, and he would shut his eyes, lost in the music.

But today, it would be absolutely impossible to do this, as it had been for the past week since the new teacher had moved in next door.

Yuri wants to believe Georgi would've picked another ballet instructor, maybe screened them, to be certain they were an upstanding person. But knowing Georgi, he probably had been 'moved' by something someone had said and given the place up to some...dance hooligan.

The sound had been growing more and more frustrating as the days went by, and finally today Yuri felt he was possibly reaching his limit. If he couldn't dance after his classes, he wasn't able to relieve stress, which was making him more and more susceptible to yelling at his students. Yelling usually happened anyway, but it was getting progressively worse by the day.

He isn't sure what kind of ballet one could do to such intense music, but today, today Yuri is going to find out.

As the students trickle out of the studio, Yuri taps his foot impatiently, his brow twitching faster and faster as he hears the pounding of the bass next door. He lets out a huff of air, ready to give his new neighbor a piece of his mind, and damn whoever it is better be ready for the storm that is Yuri Plisetsky.

Grabbing his own bag, he storms out of his studio, locks it up, and heads to stand outside of the reverberating door which leads to the studio next door. He stands on his tiptoes, poised, as only a ballet dancer could, and attempts to stare through the window, but the plastic is too cloudy. He can't get a good look. Instead, he takes a deep breath and pounds his fist against the door.

No answer. Probably because the music is so damn loud. Yuri scoffs and swings the unlocked door open, a rush of noise hitting his ear drums like a gust of wind about to blow his tiny body over. He opens his mouth to speak, ready to unleash all his frustrations in the direction of this unknown individual, and yet, he's suddenly grown mute.

In front of him stands an attractive male, so unexpectedly attractive, Yuri can't help but stare. The music slowly becomes more and more muted as he focuses on the man in front of him. He's got short, dark, uncut hair and his bangs flip about his forehead with every move he makes. His shoulders are broad, and his back muscles ripple as he jerks his arms forward, his body curling in on itself, and exploding out with the beats. The black tank top he's wearing does little to hide the sweat rolling down his bare arms and muscles flexing.

He's doing some form of modern dance Yuri isn't very familiar with. He had tried modern dance in college at one point, but had quickly given it up. It was far too unstructured, and in Yuri's opinion, didn't have the same grace and beauty ballet had. Plus, Yuri hadn't felt his body was meant to contort in such strange ways.

But now, as he watches the man moving about the floor, Yuri thinks he must've been wrong all those years ago.

Otabek rolls his head back, his arms wrapping around his body as he stomps his feet against the ground, and Yuri has a flash of a thought, wondering what it would be like to move with him. The way his body twists and moves with the music seems so harsh, and yet it's filled with a gravity, a strength Yuri can't quite put his finger on.

Yuri's heart begins to throb in time with the bass of the muted music, the sight in front of him overwhelming and enticing.

And then their eyes meet. His are the color of chocolate, brown and milky, and they widen a bit, as he realizes slowly he's been caught. "Ah," he mutters. His hands slip down his own arms, and Yuri watches, like he's watching a movie in slow motion, the man's fingers rolling over every muscle, every inch of his shimmery skin.

"Can I...help you?" he calls out, loud enough to be heard over the music.

Yuri's still speechless, but when the man tilts his head, clearly confused as to why Yuri is just standing there in his doorway.

"Hello?" he says, and finally Yuri snaps out of it.

His brow furrows again, and the music returns to his consciousness, loud and intruding. He remembers now exactly why he's here. It doesn't matter how attractive this guy is, he's interrupting Yuri's classes, and this is entirely unacceptable.

"Yeah! Turn down your damn music!" he snaps finally.

The man's eyes stare at Yuri, then turn back to the stereo on the side of the room. He gestures to it with his thumb, and Yuri folds his arms. "Yes, that!" he demands.

The man walks over and turns the dial down on the large stereo system.

"Was it too loud?"

"Could you not _tell_?" Yuri snaps, stepping further into the studio.

The man shrugs. "Nope. I like when it's loud. Good for immersion."

"Well you're disrupting my classes!" Yuri says, still yelling, his anger slowly returning as the spell this man put on him is dissipating.

"No need to yell," he replies. "I turned it down."

"Of course I have to yell. I'm pissed off! You've been disrupting my classes, and especially my personal practice time at the end of the day. So keep it down!" Yuri snarls.

"You must be Yuri Plisetsky, the ballet instructor next door," the man says, ignoring Yuri's outburst.

"Yes, I am! And your music is making the walls of my studio shake, and we can hear the bass in there during the day. My students are growing more and more distracted. On top of this, it's impossible for me to practice my personal routines!" he groans. "I can't concentrate with this...noise leaking into my studio!"

The man shrugs again, still completely unaffected by Yuri's outburst. "I'll keep it down."

"Good!" Yuri snaps. "No matter how hard I try classical music can't drown out that sound."

"Right," the man says. "Anyway, I'm Otabek Altin, and I'll be teaching modern dance here. Good to meet you, Yuri," he nods, walking over to his bag. Picking up a towel, he wipes his brow and drapes it around his neck. "I'll keep the music thing in mind."

A blush creeps onto Yuri's cheeks against his better judgement. "You better! Or this won't be the last you hear from me." Turning on his heels, he make his way out of the studio, slamming the door behind him. He knows if he looks at Otabek Altin for too long, the red on his cheeks will only get worse.

His heart is still pounding in his ears as he walks home. Otabek Altin. It's a nice name, and he hates that it's all his mind can think with each step he takes home. The routine flashes in his mind again. The way Otabek's arms moved and the way his legs stretched and twisted-it was incredible really. A different kind of beauty, and cool. Damn Otabek is so cool.

He's never been all that impressed with modern styles, but Otabek makes it look so flawless and amazing. Still, Yuri refuses to admit he thinks Otabek is cool, especially out loud.

He doesn't admit it when he curls his arms around his body, mimicking Otabek's arm movements while he writes down his lesson ideas for his classes tomorrow. He doesn't admit it when he moves his leg up and down in a similar fashion while he stirs his boiling noodles he's cooking for dinner. And he doesn't mutter a word when he searches Otabek Altin's name on YouTube to watch a few of his performances.

Yuri slurps his noodles, and tucks his knees towards his chest, balancing the bowl on his legs as he stares at the man on the screen. His eyes are dark, youthful, and filled with a determination, a look Yuri is used to seeing in his own green eyes. He respects that about Otabek the most.

He's watching a professional performance now, watching as his chest juts out, and his legs flip around themselves. His arms thrust through the air, and he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. He's amazing, and the emotion which flows through his movements makes Yuri stare, unable to take another bite. He moves so flawlessly, making the stylistic motions look so simple.

Yuri's never heard of Otabek Altin and he wonders why, especially if he's this incredible. Then again, he's never really paid much attention to the world of modern dance.

Groaning, Yuri leans forward and slams his laptop shut. Otabek Altin is talented, that is one thing Yuri is very certain of. But he hopes he actually listens to him, and keeps his damn music down. As he crawls into bed however, a thought drifts through his mind, one he doesn't even wish to humor.

_If he plays his music loud again, maybe I can watch him dance again, if only for a moment._

~~

Otabek Altin isn't stupid, he knows who Yuri Plisetsky is. Anyone who is anyone in the dance world knows who Yuri Plisetsky is. A ballet prodigy, at the young age of 15 Yuri had entered the professional world of dance and taken it by storm. Even to this day, though he is much older and spends most of his time teaching, he still dances for certain performance companies, and it's said that getting to see him perform live is a blessing.

He's heard the rumors of his talent, his beauty, and yet, the last person Otabek Altin ever expected to meet eyes with was Yuri Plisetsky. The man Otabek had bought the studio from, had mentioned Yuri Plisetsky often taught in the studio next door, but Otabek hadn't thought he would run into him. They danced two very different styles, and though he was curious about him, Otabek had decided to keep to himself. There was no reason to bother Yuri.

And yet there he stands, glaring at him with bright green eyes, his face red with anger in Otabek's doorway. He hadn't recognized him, having only actually seen Yuri Plisetsky in videos online or in classes, but the moment he complains about the noise from next door, Otabek knows exactly who he's talking to.

It makes sense too, the boy is stunningly beautiful. His green eyes shine against his pale skin, and his blond hair is tied up messily into a half-ponytail half-bun. Even with his face looking so angry, Otabek can't help but stare.

He agrees to keep the music turned down, but as Yuri walks out of his studio, his feet rolling against the wooden floor, each step heavy with anger, Otabek thinks Yuri will come back if he keeps the music turned up just a tiny bit louder than Yuri requested. It's a simple hypothesis, but it's one Otabek is willing to test.

He begins his experiment the next day during his last class. It's a class of teenagers, and they adore when Otabek keeps the music up loud. Admittedly, Otabek prefers teaching this way, letting his students immerse themselves in the music so they can really feel everything in their bodies, but he doesn't mind turning it down as a courtesy to the other teachers in the building.

Still, he finds himself pleased when he turns around and sees Yuri Plisetsky fuming in his doorway at the end of his class.

"Is it too loud?" he asks. Making his way to the stereo, his fingers hover over the large gray knob, ready to turn it down.

"Yes!" Yuri snaps. "After I just asked you yesterday too!"

Otabek turns the knob down, lowering the volume of the loud dance remix. "Better?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Yuri nods. "Much," he says, and stares at Otabek, not turning to leave.

"Is there something else?" he asks, making his way back to the front of the room.

Yuri shakes his head suddenly, as though he's been snapped from a daze. "N-No," he says quickly, folding his arms as he turns on his heel to leave the room.

Otabek notes that his body is incredibly fit, the perfect dancer body, and the tight black pants do wonders for his behind.

The next day, Otabek tries his luck and turns the music up just a bit louder than normal. He knows it's probably not for the best to keep making _the_ Yuri Plisetsky angry, but he's kind of cute when he's angry. His cheeks are flushed and puffed out, as though the air is trapped in his face desperately trying to not explode his anger all over the studio. And Otabek likes the way he tucks his arms to his chest, folded up all tense, completely frustrated. It's probably bad, but admittedly Otabek likes seeing him.

This time, Yuri slams the door open in the middle of his class, and Otabek jumps a bit, hearing the door slam against the wall. Yuri's chest is heaving a bit, and Otabek is convinced he sees smoke floating out of Yuri's nose and ears. "ALTIN!" he yells, storming in through the class, his shoes tapping angrily against the polished floor.

What Otabek doesn't expect is Yuri Plisetsky to get so close, and in his face about this. His nose is inches away from Otabek's and he's staring up at him, his green eyes trembling with anger. "Don't make me ask you again! You're ruining my lessons!" he snaps.

For a moment Otabek can't answer as he's desperate to take all of Yuri's face in. His eyes dart about, noting every crease of his skin, every hue of red which paints his cheeks. He looks at how smooth his skin is, and how his lips look even smoother. He wonders what it would be like to stroke his thumbs over Yuri's cheeks, or press his dry lips against Yuri's smooth ones. His lips are pursed right now, thin and tight, holding Yuri's tongue back from yelling more.

Finally, he holds up his hands, and takes a step back, the normal reaction for someone getting yelled at in their face. "Right, sorry. I thought this was quiet enough."

"Hardly!" Yuri scoffs, turning his head away from Otabek, his cheeks even redder than before. Stepping back to the stereo, Otabek turns the knob down a bit more.

"Is this better?" he asks again.

"Finally. If you make me come in here again, I will be talking to the building manager!" Yuri snaps, and leaves once more, slamming the door behind him as he always does. The slam echos, and Otabek's students are whispering among themselves, though Otabek can't tell if they're whispering about him and Yuri, or Yuri's anger.

"Alright, alright," he says, waving his arms about. "Let's get back to it."

Otabek decides the next day it might be best not to push his luck and keeps the music low, so when Yuri shows up while Otabek is dancing alone in the studio, he's surprised. He realizes Yuri is watching him dance, or he had been, until Otabek had caught on.

"Is it too loud, or what?" Otabek asks, stretching up as he stops dancing. He notices Yuri's eyes trail over his body, all the way from his lower abdomen to his face. When their eyes meet however, Yuri glances away.

"N-No. It was fine. I came over to thank you for actually listening to me," he mumbles, a bit of red sits on his upper cheek bones.

"It's not a problem. Admittedly, I enjoy my students immersing themselves in the music, but it's not fair to other classes," Otabek shrugs. "Perhaps I could teach a night class."

"The bass...can be overwhelming," Yuri mutters. "Especially at the end of the day. I enjoy spending some private time dancing, and it's hard to do with it thumping through the wall."

"I understand," Otabek nods, knowing he does the exact same. Grabbing his water bottle, he swings his bag over his shoulder and picks up his keys. "Have you ever tried modern dance?" he asks. He's only ever heard of Yuri doing ballet, and mostly Otabek is curious, but he's also tempted. Tempted to ask Yuri to dance for him, or better yet, with him. "Maybe we could collaborate sometime?" he suggests, his voice a bit softer than before.

"Modern? I tried it once and found it to be boring," Yuri scoffs. A rejection. "I only enjoy ballet, the purest form of dance," he grunts.

"I see," Otabek says, and wipes his forehead. "I suppose that makes sense for someone like you."

"I don't have time for anything else," Yuri says, and turns to leave. "But...thank you again."

"Right," Otabek nods, standing in the middle of his studio, alone once Yuri leaves.

If there is one thing Otabek is talented at, it's hiding the disappointment he feels wash over every part of his being.

~~

Otabek has never been good at ballet. He's tried it a few times, so he's familiar with the technique, but it never seems to work for his body. He always feels stiff and unable to flow with the movements.

He loves watching it though, and he has come to especially love watching Yuri.

Sometimes after the classes are done, he silently opens the door to Yuri's studio, watching him dance. Yuri always notices him sooner or later, and immediately stops, yelling at Otabek to go away.

But in those few moments, where Otabek goes unnoticed, he feels as though he's been whisked away to alternate dimension. One where everything is pastel, and Yuri is pure beauty, dancing on gentle wisps of clouds. The music begins, a gentle piano and violin piece echo through the air, and as Yuri moves, his blond hair billows and swirls around his face, as though he is the embodiment of wind.

He rises up onto his toes, and his arms flow upwards, the breeze pushing his arms up gently. Everything is precise, each gentle twitch of his fingers, every leap and curve of his arms. His back bends, and his legs kick out, cutting softly through the clouds flowing around his body. He thrusts his hands into the air, framing a circle around his face, as though he wears a backdrop of light, like a halo in old religious paintings. Yuri Plisetsky is some sort of angel, Otabek decides.

Many times his eyes are closed, but he knows the routine by heart, and never falters. Otabek knows he could watch him all day.

He wonders how it would feel to dance with him. If he could run his hands over the muscles in Yuri's, move him and mold their bodies together, in a collaboration of power and grace. He can imagine lifting Yuri up, twirling him out, moving at the same time as him, and yet, he knows it cannot be. Yuri's already rejected him, and truthfully, Otabek doesn't know if he has the talent to keep up with Yuri. Certainly not when it comes to ballet.

He's probably creeping him out, actually he _knows_ he's creeping Yuri out, since every time they lock eyes, Yuri's face turns red and his body twitches ever so slightly, freezing. It's the stiffest Otabek has ever seen him, and he wishes he could remain invisible, an audience member instead of an intruder. Admittedly, he doesn't mean to be creepy, he simply wishes to appreciate Yuri's talent.

And it's not as if Yuri doesn't do the same to him.

Otabek has seen Yuri occasionally peering his eyes through the glass window. Sometimes he sneaks inside, and Otabek stops, just as Yuri does, when he notices Yuri is standing there in the doorway.

"Music too loud?" he sometimes asks, and Yuri shakes his head.

"No, it's fine," he'll snort, and storm away from the room.

Yuri pretends to not watch, but Otabek can feel his green eyes, mesmerized by the way Otabek's body moves. His arms and legs are sharp, and filled with gravity, as though he's connecting his feet with the ground beneath him. It's different from ballet, harsher, filled with a power ballet can never quite capture, as though ballet is the dove which flies away, and modern is the un-flying bird, happy to stay close to the ground. Both are free, and explore in different ways.

And yet, though Yuri claims to be uninterested in anything but ballet, Otabek wonders if maybe he's lying, or changed his mind. Otherwise, why would he watch Otabek, why would he blush when their eyes meet, no matter who is watching who?

Otabek is determined to work with him, even if it means trying ballet again. He spends hours digging through his closet to find his old pair of ballet shoes, which are in surprisingly good condition due to such little use.

Maybe he could learn, learn from Yuri.

"Why are you watching me?" Yuri asks one day, sweat trickling down his brow. The presence of which surprises Otabek, since everything Yuri does looks effortless.

"I could ask you the same thing," Otabek retorts, leaning against the door frame.

"It's...it's interesting," Yuri scoffs. "The way you move is different. I'm trying to understand it or whatever."

"Your dancing is beautiful," Otabek admits bluntly, and he likes the way Yuri's face heats up immediately. He's cute like this, a contrast to how stunning he is when he dances. Either way, Otabek finds he wishes to kiss him.

"Idiot," Yuri snarls, tossing his towel into his bag. He yanks the strap up, pulling it over his shoulder.

"What if we tried collaborating?" Otabek suggests again, his heart pounding fast, preparing for rejection. "I'm interested in your ballet, and you're interested in my modern," he explains.

Yuri snorts, folding his arms. "Why do you think that?" He pops his hip out to the side, looking frustrated.

"Just give me a chance. We could use...both styles," he suggests.

"Fine," Yuri concedes, and Otabek smiles.

He pulls out a pair of old ballet shoes, holding them up by their ribbons. "Then, let me join a class."

"Have you taken ballet before?" Yuri asks, raising an eyebrow, skeptical of Otabek.

He nods. "Of course. It wasn't for me, but with you as my teacher, I want to try again."

Yuri rolls his eyes, but Otabek cracks a smirk when Yuri agrees.

~~

Yuri isn't sure what Otabek is planning, but he knows he's terrible at ballet. His body is stiff, and though he stays towards the back of the class, he sticks out like a sore thumb. His arms don't flow as a ballet dancer's should, and his wrists seem permanently stuck in the wrong position. And no matter how many times Yuri attempts to fix Otabek, he always seems to move back to the way he was before.

He doesn't mind much, because Yuri likes seeing Otabek in his class. He likes the way his forehead wrinkles while he concentrates so hard, his dark eyes narrow as he attempts to adjust his positions.

And though he won't admit it, Yuri doesn't mind fixing Otabek's positions. It means sliding his fingers over Otabek's wrists and hands, moving them to the proper position. He slides his hands down Otabek's arms and wrists, feeling the muscles rolling under his fingertips, and sometimes it feels as though his heart will stop when he's this close to him.

He likes having Otabek in his class, even if Otabek is probably wasting his time. Clearly ballet isn't his forte.

"Are you sure you're interested in ballet?" Yuri asks, pulling Otabek aside after the last class.

"Of course," he says. "I'm interested in dancing with you."

"Hmph," Yuri snorts, flipping his hair to the side. "Then dance with me. You don't have to prove anything by taking this class!" He's growing angry. It was cute at first, but watching Otabek struggle isn't something he finds pleasant. Especially if the man is only doing it to try and dance with Yuri. They could dance without such a struggle, and Otabek could stick to a style he's familiar with. A style Yuri knows he looks good doing.

Pursing his lips, Otabek smirks for a moment. "I could show you what I've been working on."

Yuri nods, and takes a seat on one of the folding chairs at the front of the room. "Alright."

Otabek pulls a CD from his bag, placing it into Yuri's stereo, and an instrumental begins to play. The song is an interesting fusion of classical and electronic, violins echoing through the studio.

Otabek stands in the middle. "It would start with you, enter on pointe," he says, and shows how Yuri would enter, though his pointe is awkward since he's not actually wearing the proper shoes. "And then I would enter." Otabek falls to the ground, weighted by the gravity of his move, he rolls forward, and holds his hands up, his leg stretched out behind him. "We'd pause here, until it becomes a clash between both of our styles. I thought you could choreograph some of your own solo parts," he suggests.

He moves about the room, speaking through the different parts as he explains what Yuri will be doing, and Yuri can't take his eyes off him. Otabek's body is perfectly defined, his muscles sculpted and masculine. Under his dark pants, it's easy to see the way his muscles move and contract with each leap and push off of the ground. Yuri feels an itch creep under his skin. He wants to dance with Otabek. He wants to feel his hands on his body, and move against his rhythm. He wants to battle his style, but move in sync.

Otabek finishes, ending in a strong pose, one which leaves him with his arm around Yuri's waist. "So...are you going to dance with me or not?" he asks, his voice echoing in the silence of the now quiet studio.

Yuri stands up, walking towards the stereo, thinking Otabek is too damn cool for his own good. Yuri could only dream of being as interesting and as cool as Otabek. But he's not about to tell Otabek that.

"Let's start from the beginning," Yuri says, pushing play on the stereo once again. "I'll improvise."

Otabek nods, and watches as Yuri rises onto his toes, and twirls towards the middle of the floor. It's the first time he's doing it, and only the second time he's hearing the song, but his rhythm and movement are perfect. He waits, his hand outstretched as Otabek stops directly in front of him, his hands sliding up his waist. The movement is slow and tantalizing, his outstretched fingers slowly moving up Yuri's body, his loose white shirt bunching up as it gets pushed towards his armpits. Otabek's fingers are strong, and his grip is heavy. If Yuri fell, Otabek would surely catch him.

His chest is heaving quite a bit, the tension building as Yuri stares down at him, and he's almost disappointed when Otabek pulls away. The music picks up speed, and Otabek is gone, his hand falling to floor, as his body contorts and bends around himself, leaping away. Yuri twirls away from him too, and does a pirouette across the floor; the contrast apparent in his much lighter moves. He leaps through the air, kicking his leg back, and he spins and spins, not growing dizzy, though he feels short of breath, from staring at Otabek for too long. He points his leg in the air, curling his toes down, graceful.

Though their styles are so different, their chemistry is amazing, and Yuri can tell it would be interesting to watch their combatant styles. Yuri is lost in his own performance, the music and the energy he can feel pulsating from Otabek across the room. The music's peak begins, and Yuri twirls towards the center, meeting Otabek as he bends downward, slipping one arm around Yuri's waist and the other rests on his wrist. Yuri's leg kicks upwards into a high arabesque, and they freeze, their mouths close as they're only inches apart.

As if snapping from a daze, Yuri steps back, shaking his head. "I'll...I'll work on it, and we can perform it for our classes or whatever," he mutters.

Otabek nods, rubbing his arm for a moment, as though he's about to say something else. "That sounds nice," he replies finally.

"Great we can practice again tomorrow, and don't worry about taking my ballet class anymore."

"Right."

~~

Every time Otabek practices with Yuri, he wishes to kiss him, and it's becoming a problem. Their piece ends with their faces so close, and each time, the desire to run his hands through Yuri's blond hair and pull their lips together grows strong and stronger.

His eyes follow all parts of Yuri's body while he moves. He watches the way his legs pulse under his skin-tight black pants, and he adores following the flowing movement of his bare arms, the muscles flawless.

After their first practice, Yuri had suggested they perform for the class, and as long as it went well, they could start a combination class, where students could focus on both styles, learning from both teachers. It would be an interesting collaborative effort, and while Otabek was excited for that, he was mostly excited to dance with Yuri.

So, in preparation they practice every night.

Sometimes they practice together, and sometimes they practice separately, working on their solo sections. When that happens, Otabek yearns to be with Yuri, watching him work, feeling their skin so close. It's always better whenever they are able to work together, and Otabek feels their choreography gets stronger when it is the two of them. Working solo seems so boring now.

  
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"I'd say we're close to being ready. One more practice session," Yuri says one night, and Otabek nods. "So you going to dance with me or what?" Yuri smirks.

Standing up, Otabek holds out his hand, and Yuri takes it. In a swift moment, Otabek spins Yuri to him, holding Yuri's back against his chest. He sways them both back and forth, dancing to the music in their heads. Otabek likes to imagine they're hearing the same thing, especially when Yuri begins to sway at the same speed.

Yuri turns around, taking Otabek's hand in his own, and places his hand on his shoulder. "This isn't what I really had in mind," he grumbles, squeezing Otabek's shoulder as they begin to waltz around the room.

"Oh?" Otabek asks, raising an eyebrow. Yuri's doing the cute thing he does when he's embarrassed, but doesn't want to admit it. He pouts and turns the slightest hint of red, Otabek adores it.

"Yeah I meant our routine," he says, and Otabek spins him out and pulls him back quickly. He loves the way Yuri's blond hair follows the wind of his body, flowing around his head, brushing against his cheeks. He also likes the look of shock when Yuri spins out, and is impressed of course, by how gracefully Yuri is able to handle the move even when taken off guard.

"We all need breaks every so often," Otabek teases. "When was the last time you danced casually, Yura?"

Yuri blushes at the nickname, and shrugs. "I dunno. I don't really do partner stuff like this anymore."

"Exactly," Otabek chuckles. "You're missing out."

"I guess this isn't so bad," he whispers, taking a step closer to Otabek.

"No, it's not...is it," Otabek chuckles, sliding his hand down Yuri's lower back as they sway in time together.

~~

The evening of the performance is upon them, and both Yuri and Otabek had invited many of their students. However, the two of them had agreed to meet to practice one final time before performing for an audience.

Yuri is more nervous than he would ever let on. He's performed so many times, professionally, in school, for students...so really this shouldn't be any different, in fact, it should be easier. Neither of them have costumes, and it's been labeled as informal so many times. Yet his heart won't stop throbbing.

Something about performing with Otabek sparks something different within him. He desires to be better, and to be perfect and graceful. He wants to impress him, though Yuri is well aware he impresses Otabek on the daily. He's seen Otabek stare at him, and he's seen the way Otabek claps for him. He's also felt the way Otabek's hands often linger on his body, but that sparks a different feeling altogether.

He's wringing his hands together when Otabek walks in the room, carrying his stereo with him. That damn stereo is the cause of all this. If only Otabek had never played his damn music so loud, Yuri wouldn't been feeling as though he were about to explode.

"Are you nervous?" Otabek asks, placing the stereo down.

"What?!" Yuri snaps loudly. "NO WAY!"

"...right," Otabek snorts, obviously not pushing it. "We can start then?" he asks. Of course Otabek looks completely normal. He's never phased by things like this, actually he's never phased by anything, Yuri thinks-minus the occasional blush here or there when Yuri gets a bit too close him.

"I'm ready! I'm waiting on you!" he snaps, folding his arms indignantly, but Otabek just laughs, and pushes play.

The moment the music starts, Yuri takes position, the nervous quickly changing to adrenaline and the desire to impress Otabek.

He spins in, and takes his position, raising his leg high in the air, and Otabek follows suit, rolling on the ground, sliding his own leg out as he slides his hands up Yuri's chest. For a moment the music seems to go in slow motion. Otabek's fingers are hot against Yuri's taut skin, and Yuri is desperate for Otabek to keep them there forever.

But as the music picks up again, Yuri is brought back to reality, and he's spinning away from Otabek. He does a pirouette and kicks his leg out, pointing his toe down as he spreads his arms, as though they are his wings, and freezes, letting Otabek have the spotlight. Sometimes they dance together, and other times they highlight solo moments, allowing both of them to have a moment to shine. Out of his peripheral, he sees Otabek kick his leg out, stomping on the ground as he rotates his hands around his head, curving his spine up. Otabek's body is so flexible and interesting, so different from Yuri's and yet still beautiful. He loves how he looks, so cool, and weighted, as though he's become one with gravity.

This time, they move together, Yuri leaping forward as Otabek leaps back, but then they switch, directions, Yuri twirling forward on the tops of his toes. This part of the program always seems to rush by, the music picking up speed as they dance around each other, Yuri tries not to focus on Otabek, and instead focuses on his own feet, as he soars over the floor.

He twirls and makes his way to the end, feeling Otabek's arm wrap around his waist, and their noses touch. As always, Yuri prepares to feel Otabek's breath on his skin, but this time, Otabek closes the space between them, their lips touching.

Yuri's eyes go wide as he processes what is happening. Otabek's lips are against his own, and he let's out a soft sigh, his leg returning to the floor. His knees are trembling, and he drapes his hand on Otabek's back, his blond hair brushing up against Otabek's cheek. He tugs on his lip, and he prays Otabek never stops kissing him. He's been wanting this for weeks now.

When he does finally pull away, both of them are panting, and Yuri stays up on his toes, resting his forehead against Otabek's.

"Finally," he grumbles. "I was starting to think you were never going to kiss me!"

"You could've kissed me," Otabek teases, "if the tension was too much for you."

"W-Whatever!" he grumbles, and pecks at Otabek's lips again. But the truth is, they had just about reached their boiling point, and it's obvious both of them know it.

"Good thing we did that now," Otabek pants, and Yuri nods. Kissing in front of their students wouldn't be a big deal, especially since most of them have been murmuring about their teachers' relationship anyway, however Yuri knows Otabek is a somewhat private person.

"Y-Yeah," Yuri whispers, and he presses his lips against Otabek's once more, rolling their hips together. "To think all of this happened because your music was too damn loud." Yuri supposes he should be grateful, not angry like he was earlier.

"I'm grateful," Otabek smirks. "And admittedly, I turned it up a few times on purpose...to see you."

Blushing Yuri frowns, and punches Otabek's shoulder. "You idiot!" he yells, and puffs out his cheeks. "Though...sometimes I went even though it wasn't that loud."

Both of them laugh, and the sound is beautiful, the perfect volume as it echos through the studio.

Stepping back, Otabek goes to pick up the stereo. "Are you ready?" he asks, holding his hand out to Yuri, ready to lead him into the next room.

With Otabek, he's come to realize he's about ready for anything, and their journey with each other and with their dance is only just beginning. He knows their students are going to love what they do, and Yuri can't wait to teach with Otabek, and dance with him even more.

Nodding, Yuri reaches forward and takes Otabek's hand, their fingers intertwining together.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Here is my fic for the OtaYuri bang with AMAZING art by [Ronnie](https://seeyounextlevel.tumblr.com)! It was so wonderful getting to collaborate with you. Thank you so much for drawing such an amazing picture, it inspired me a lot! I had so much fun writing this fic! I've always wanted to write a dance AU and this was the perfect excuse! Thank you to everyone who read this!! I hope you enjoyed it!! 
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr or twitter!! [emeraldwaves](http://emeraldwaves.tumblr.com/) is my tumblr or [musickazoo](https://twitter.com/musickazoo)


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